Pick's Grand Adventure
by HappySunset2014
Summary: When Pick recieves the news of his post in Ostagar, he tries to make the best of it. But when the Darkspawn won the battle, Pick's only chance of survival is to run. Pick/OC .
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I never read any story involving Pick, a minor character you can take a sword from by lying to him while in Ostagar in DAO. I wondered what he thought about his lot in life and how he would act in sertain situations and so I created this...

The Story of Pick.

Chapter One.

Growing up in the Alianage has no hope for betterment among the elven people. We are born in filth, huddling up in ramshakled houses made of mud and wood and hay. we grow up in squalor, learning little of what it's like to be an elf, learning that even though we are indeed free, we still must become servent to the shemlins in order to survive. Our women are under constant threat of rape, our elders beg on the streets, hopeing for a scant few gold supplied by even fewer kind humans. Our men are not alowed to even carry a weapon to defend their loved ones, and even if we could, no one would train us to do so.

I was born in the alienage in Denerim, but my family gave me into the services of the King as a messanger. I grew in my position quickly, for the shem who was my mentor had little patience when it came to elves and was very libral with his use of the switch. I knew how to act around my 'betters', keeping myself humble in aperance. On the outside, I had achieved the look of a docile and eager servent.

But on the inside burned an anger hotter than mage fire. I yerned for justice, for the shem to pay for keeping my people in the alienage like caged beast. Although I felt such bitterness, I had no way to act on it. As I said before, the common city elf has no prior training in combat, I'd be damn usless if I needed, for any reason, to pick up a blade.

What I lacked in combat training I made up for in the gathering of knowlage. As i grew to be a trusted errant boy, I came to notice that I was practicaly invisible when the lords and nobles had no use for me. They would often speak on inportant topics that would cause the public to rise and riot: Plans to raise taxes, plots to assasinate heads of very important industries, and gossip that included Rendon Howe and a dwarf male prostitute that I hoped, for his sake, was false. Soon I came to know the commings ang goings of every notable figure that came into castle Drakon.

Imagine, if you would, my surprise when my mentore came to me with unexpected news.

I was in the servent quarters of the Arls' estate, washing up after delivering a parcle containing gloves made out of the finest Antivan leather to the Lady Adelle, when the large, harry bear of a mentor came rushing into the room.

"You there, elf...Puck!" He strained to gain his breath, leaning against the wall.

"It's Pick sir," I calmly corrected him, seathing slightly at the fact that I have been working for him over four years now, and he could have the slightest amount of respect to know my name.

"Don't speak to me that way, you bloody knife-ear, I'll call you whatever I see fit."He spat, I flinched and moved a few feet away from him, his breath reeked of ale.

I swalowed my fury, "Yes sir, How may I assist you?"

"The King is in need of elf laborers at Ostagar, I sent a few elven wenches for the men," he let the sentence linger and eyed me, gauging my reaction. I balled my fist but said nothing to him, "And we need a few messangers on hand. Maker forbid they talk to one another before battle."

My heart hammered in my chest. "You need me to go to Ostagar?"

He sneered at me, "Smart for an elf, arn't yeh? Aye you and some others are headed off there tomorow, so let me get a few things straight with you: Don't disobey your betters, don't make me look bad by messin up yer job and don't you dare try and escape. I'd hate to put you down like an old horse."

He left me with my thoughts, shouting a few last minute commands at me before sloutching off to the castle. 

I leaned on the stone wall and tried to absorb the news. The King sent his men to the old ruin of Ostagar just a few days ago, along with a few servents both human and elf. Some of my fellow mesangers went along with the troops, so why did I have to go?

If the King was anything like lord Vaughn, the Arl's son, I would refuse outright. It was no secret that Vaughn liked elven flesh, and many a young maid dissapeared from the streets of Denerim only to end up beaten to death and left to rot.

King Calen was one human I respected . He is very good to my people, trying to provide well-paying jobs and shelters in the market district. He tried to take a stand for elven rights, earning a reputation as a hero in the eyes of many elfs. I felt it was my duty to serve his army, even if it was somthing as small as delevering messages.

After I'm done with my work here, I think I'll pack a bag. Soon I'll be leaving the walls of Denerim on an adventure of my very own.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Yay, I finaly finished chapter two! Thank you all for viewing my fanfiction for DAO. Disclaimer: I do not own any character in Dragon Age Origen or DA 2. I do own my OC however.

Chapter Two.

We were up before dawn, myself and a handful of other elves. We each carried small cloth sacks filled with our belongings. Some had food, given to them by their families, others had bracelets carved from bone and painted with bright dyes.

The three women huddled together, chatting brightly to one another. I stood by the two other men, both laborers with sinewy muscle and herd faces. I looked around to see if any other messenger elves were joining us.

It was just the six of us.

"Oi, you lot!" The sound of my mentor's voice sickened me. Around me, my fellow elves stopped talking and gave him their attention. He motioned for us to follow him.

I followed behind the group as we were led from the castle to the middle of the Market District. One poorly made carrage pulled by two paliminos awaited us.

"This is yer ride to Ostagar," said my mentor, waving grandly, " Yer coach'll be here soon to take you bloody knife ea...Oi what the hell do you want?"

I turned to see who he was speaking too. An older shem aproached us. He was tall with dark skin, black hair and a hooked nose. He was armed to the teeth. And next to him...

It was _her._ Lyra Tabris, Sorin's cousen. A beauty with pale skin, blond hair and wicked blue eyes. She was the talk of the Alienage when her father begain looking for someone for her to marry, that many men lined up to offer her father a dowery. Some were even single.

I heard she hated the idea of an aranged marrage, but she always had an indipendant spirit. And a rumor that she played with knives.

She was looking right at me, her blue eyes held my gaze. She smiled at me.

The older man spoke in a soft, but comanding tone, "Forgive the intrusion, sir. My name is Duncan, of the Grey Wardens."

"You a Warden, you say? Whad'ya need?" my mentor spoke to Duncan with a respect he only reserved for the nobles.

"Safe passage to Ostagar. I heard this carrage was heading there." said Duncen.

My mentor thought it over and gave Lyra a leering, letcherous look. Her eyes seemed to spark with irratiation. Finaly, he said "Yeah, I'll let you and your servant aboard."

"Servent?" said Lyra, her tone outraged. "Listen here you disgusting Shem-"

"She's not my servent, sir." Duncan spoke over Lyra, he placed a calming hand on her shoulder, "I recruted her to join the order of the Grey Wardens."

"You must be desperate for numbers," my mentor muttered, "Why'd you pick up an elf?"

Duncan gave Lyra a look of warning when she opened her mouth. She returned the look with a glare of her own, "She has shown great promise in the face of danger, so lets leave it at that."

The expression on Duncan's face automaticly ended the discussion.

Our escort came shortly after. He was an old man, lean with a perminant frown. We all filed in the carrage, and I found myself sitting next to Lyra.

She fumbled with somthing gold and circular. It was a ring, a simple gold band with a few words written on the side, too small for me to read. "Is there a reason why you're stairing at me?"

I flushed and looked away, my face burning. I mumbled an apology. She sighed and put the ring back on her hand, where a wedding band usualy goes, "I didn't mean to snap, I'm just a little on edge."

"I guess being a Grey Warden would do that to you," I replied.

She smiled a little, "Actualy, this is a shot of a lifetime. Duncan recruted me after we escaped Arl's estate."

"How did you end up there?" I asked, but somthing told me I already knew the answer.

" Vaughen enterupted my wedding. He took the women in the wedding to the estate just to have his way with us. Sorin's bride, my cousin Shianni... I never felt so helpless. The guards left me alone. They said that Vaughen liked my look, and was...going to save me for last."

"Thats when Sorin appeared, armed with a few weapons. He said my husband to be, Nelaros, went berzerk on those who wanted to 'hope for the best' They planned a rescue mission."

"If they rescued you, why did Duncan pick you to be a Warden?" I asked. She glared at me.

"I said they planned the rescue, I didn't say it worked. Sorin and I fought our way through the guards. Soris said that Nelaros went right to Vaughen's room because he though I would be there...

"He didn't make it," She continued, her eyes wet with tears, "When Soris and I turned a corner we witnessed a guard cut him down. I killed the guards, but it was too late for Nelaros. He gave me his wedding band and died in my arms."

She took a deep breath, "I hunted Vaughen down and killed him. We brought the others to safety but we wern't exactly stealthy. As soon as we reentered the Alienage, the guards were apon us. I took the blame for everything, to spare Soris. They would of had me killed if Duncan hadn't preformed the Rite of Conscription. And here I am."

She grew quiet after that, lost in thought.

The rest of the trip flew by quickly. I watched the countryside fly by as the horses pulled us along on the face of Ferelden. Most of us kept quiet, but Duncan engaged a few of the girls in conversation and the other two elves flirted with Lyra, who laughed along to there stupid jokes and blushed at their lamest compliments.

I was quite relieved when we came in sight of the Ostagar ruins. Old crumbling stone overrun by tangled vines surrounded by a vast, dark forest. Colorful tents could be seen in the distance and the air was filled with the chatter of humans and the clang of steel.

A pair of guards greeted us and told us of our stations: The two strong elven men were to help the forge master. The three elven woman were told to go to the quartermaster and I was givin my first assignment, to diliver a message to Teran Logain.

Lyra followed Duncan to the crumbling bridge, leaving me to my boring work.

I wish I could say my life continued on its boring path, but everything changed at nightfall.

End Chapter Two.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own any Dragon Age charaters or anything involving DA ok?

Pick's Great Adventure

Chapter three.

This place was infested with Shem.

I had to suck it up, got to keep up apearences . To be honest, Ostagar was intimidating: It's tall, pale stone walls cast deep shadows; the long, crumbling stone bridge loomed hundreds of feet from ground level; Mages from the Cirlce gathered in a huge, spirit-infused mass for a trip to the fade; Human soldiers polished their swords and armor, boasting about their conquest (both on the battle field and in the bedroom); Elven maidens rushed back and forth, smiles on their faces as they took their order's from the Quartermaster.

"Pick, eh Pick!" The Quartermaster shouted. I rushed quickly to his side. He held aloft a steel mace and I kept out of reach, just in case he decided he wanted to kill me.

"At your service, sir" I lowered myself slightly.

"Right, give this parcel to the guard outside of Terran Logain's tent...and this letter needs to go to the mageling, Wynn...and this sword...oh damn, ...where did the bloody sword go?" He serched around his pile of goods until he found a beautiful silver sword with an ebony handle. He dropped all three of the items in my arms, "The sword belongs to Sir. Garland. He's out surveying the field now, so don't risk your bloody neck. Wait till, he gets back."

"Of course," I replied, and then I was off.

Wynn was closer to me. She was an older woman with white hair and a kind smile. She greeted me warmly when I cam into view.

"Hello Lady Wynn," I said politly, handing her the letter.

"Ahh, thank you, my friend." She opened the envelope and scanned the document quickly, "By the Maker, can't the Circle solve it's own problems? A bloodmage escapes along with his acomplice..." she mumbled to herself.

I decided to leave her be.

I wasn't too familiar with the grounds just yet, so it didn't surprise me when I lost my way. Where was Logain's tent?

"You there, Elf." A gruff voice called to me. I turned to see two men and one woman, all three dressed in worn, dirty armor and had their face painted in dark hued paint. Their mabari hounds were painted the same way. They were called Ash Warriors, and they were the kind of Shem I didn't want to cross.

"Er...It's Pick, sir"

"Just get a message to Terran Logain, our hounds are ready for tonights battle," Said the dark haired warrior. Then he turned away from me, effectivly dismissing me.

Just walk away Pick. Don't take the spare blade and slice off his ear, Pick.

I walked away, determined to find Logain's damn tent. I focused so much on my mission that I accidently ran into someone, knocking them over.

"Ow, hey!" A female voice cried out.

"Maker, I'm sorry!" I said, I offered her a hand up.

The poor girl was elven, but dressed in green leather armor. Her skin was tan, but her hair was pure white. She reguarded me with startling green eyes, "what was that all about, can't you see where your going?"

"Hey, I'm sorry! I'm just a little busy," I tried to focus on the conversation, but the elegant tatoos on her face were very distracting: swirling lines in gold ink.

"Busy doing slave labor for your Shem masters, flat ear." her voice was full of venom.

I had an urge to protect myself, "I'm not a slave to the humans, I'm just doing my job." Who does this woman think she is?

"Right...and that blade belongs to you, does it?" She asked, pointing to Sir. Garland's sword.

"No," I replied, "This is Sir. Garland's blade. I'm to return it to him. It's my job...the job I get payed for."

She smirked, her eye's sparked with intrest, "Oh, so thats his sword. He was wondering what happened to it." she held out her hand, "I'll bring it to him."

"What, do you even know who he is?" I gripped the blade tighter.

"Of course I do, I also know that he's out in the field not. He sen't me to find an elf with his blade. he asked me to get it for him." She smiled.

"Who's the slave now?" I replied, narrowing my eyes.

She clinched her fists, "Watch your toungue, flat ear. Sir. Garland asked me a favor, equil to equil. Now I need that sword."

I tossed the blade to her and she swiftly caught it and balanced it in her hand."Good day," I said curtly.

"Thanks flat-ear," she replied.

I sighed, "Pick, for the love of the Maker, my name is Pick."

The strange white haired elf glanced up and smirked at him, "I'm Reia. It's nice to meet you, Pick." With that she turned and walked away.

...

I finaly gathered the nerve to ask where Logain's tent was. A kind faced human pointed the way and soon I delivered both the parcel and the ash warrior's message to the guard


End file.
